


the tolerance you borrow

by sandyk



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Child Injury, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-16 02:19:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandyk/pseuds/sandyk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam said. "Not even close. My wife doesn't like you." (pre-series.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	the tolerance you borrow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [billtheradish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/billtheradish/gifts).



> Notes: not mine. no profit garnered. Thanks to sfa and jf for betas. Title from Soul Asylum's we 3.

Callen and Sam had been partners for 7 months. Hetty accidentally let Callen see a form that indicated Sam was married with a child. He was a little hurt it took Hetty to let him know.

"I'm not sure I even understand her position," Sam said. "I understand she's scary, and I understand that she could probably take us both down but, is she Director of Operations or not?"

"Macy is the Director here," Callen said. "Hetty is something else. She run certain things."

"Certain things," Sam said. "Very imprecise language."

"Hetty moves in the spaces between very imprecise language."

Sam made his extremely skeptical face. "Are you answering my question or working on your poetry?"

"Can't I do both? Modern poetry woos the ladies just as effectively as sonnets and villanelles." Callen smiled. At the time, he had honestly no idea what Hetty's position was. He had good ideas of where she felt she was needed.

"Villanelles?" Sam snorted and frowned. It was unattractive. "That is not something that exists."

"Yes, it is," Callen said. "I will buy a book of the best villanelles for you to read at our next poetry slam. And I will go for more modern works, seducing all the ladies."

"You will not," Sam said. His phone buzzed and all the color drained out of Sam's face.

They'd been on a stakeout. Not a particularly important case but enough that Callen was irritated when Sam kicked him out of the car. "Someone will come get you," Sam said.

"You can at least tell me what is going on," Callen said. He still hadn't gotten out of the car.

Sam's jaw clenched. Every muscle in Sam's body looked clenched. He finally said, "If I tell you, will you get out of the car and let me go?"

"Yes," Callen said, no longer irritated.

"That was my wife, my daughter was hit by a car. I'm going to the hospital right now."

Callen got out of the car, saying "I hope she's okay."

The next day Callen drove to the address Sam had given him. It was Sam's house. His wife stood in the middle of the yard, carefully watching their daughter. The little girl seemed fine, but she had a bandage on her arm. Callen stayed in his car, waiting for Sam. Sam's wife stared him down and then went to back to watching the little girl making letters with her arms and legs.

Sam came out, kissed his wife and hugged the little girl so tight she squeaked and laughed. Then he got in the passenger side and told Callen to drive.

"Looks like your daughter is okay," Callen said.

"Just fell on her arm, she's good." Sam squinted, his expression one of thinking deeply. He said, "Sorry about yesterday."

"And I'm driving today why?"

"Michelle needs the Charger today." And that was that.

xx

"You staying with Renko again?" Sam harrumphed. Literally. The man harrumphed. He was the first person Callen knew who could do that.

"Yes, I am," Callen said. "Are you offering me a place?"

"Not at all," Sam said. "Not even close. My wife doesn't like you."

"Your wife has never met me," he said.

"She saw you sitting in the car," Sam said.

"So therefore she doesn't like me."

"First impressions are very powerful," Sam said, grinning.

"She was glaring at me," Callen said. "How does that make me the one making a bad first impression?"

"Maybe she sensed the fear in you. My wife is not a fan of fearful men," Sam said, grinning again. The man loved talking about his wife. Callen liked that in a man.

"I am a man without fear," Callen said. "Now I feel like I need to stay with you. I need to correct your wife's impression of me. Second impression are usually more accurate."

"Totally untrue, and no."

He took it up with Sam again the next day. "You, me, your wife: dinner. We go out. She will like me, I promise you. Unless."

Sam didn't laugh. "Unless what?"

"What do you tell her about me? Maybe I didn't make a bad first impression, maybe you made that happen. What do you say?"

"I don't talk about you to my wife," Sam said.

"Your wife knows you're NCIS, right?"

Sam said, "We're changing the subject right now."

"Does she not know?"

Sam got up from his workspace and walked away. Callen decided not to follow.

xx

The next day, they were on another stakeout. "Thank you for not bringing up my wife," Sam said.

"Does that mean we can talk about her again? You were going to tell me if she knew you were NCIS. Which, before you try to walk out of this car or worse, throw me out of the car, I assume she does."

Sam said, "Why do you assume that?"

"I know you. I assume any woman willing to put up with you for the rest of her life has certain qualities. Besides that she doesn't like fearful men."

Sam snorted. "I hope you are not implying any of those certain qualities are negative. My wife is an amazing person."

"That was the first quality I was going to list," Callen said. "We can be done with this, you know."

"I so wish that were true," Sam said. "Fine. I will talk to my wife about having you over so you can try to convince her you're not the nogoodnik she thinks you are."

"Nogoodnik? Did you just use the word nogoodnik?"

Sam shook his head. "We've been watching these Jewish grandmas for too long."

"Oy vey," Callen said. "But I look forward to the nosh."

xx

"Dinner has been downgraded to hors d'oeuvres," Sam said in the morning. "No kids either, they'll be at Grandma's."

Callen decided to wait on asking more about Grandma. "Pigs in a blanket? I love pigs in a blanket."

"Assorted cheeses and crackers." Sam harrumphed again.

Callen said, "You had to bargain, didn't you? So she'd only meet me if she didn't have to cook."

"And we're going to the Getty. An exhibit on some painter. Ask me how excited I am." Sam didn't look excited at all.

"You're a great man for making these sacrifices."

Sam said, "You better make her like you."

xx

Callen walked in girded for battle. A battle of charm and wit. He was ready. He smiled sincerely. Michelle squinted at him. She glared. She said, "Michael?"

"Quinn? I didn't recognize you," he said, laughing.

"You two know each other?" Sam was glaring.

Michelle laughed. She hugged Callen. "I knew, I knew when I saw you I had seen you before. But I never got your name."

"I did not recognize you at all. And that is a compliment."

"Can someone please fill me in?"

"You are whining like your daughter," Michelle said to Sam. "It was an operation, obviously. Before I met you. Somewhere in Russia."

"I think that's as far as we can go," Callen said. He smirked. "It was pretty classified."

"When you were DEA?" Sam kept frowning.

"Yes," Michelle said. "Wow, it's really good to see you."

"This means I don't have to go to the Getty," Sam said.

"No, it does not," Michelle said. "But you two sit down, I am actually going to cook something. So your name isn't Michael, I take it."

"G Callen, at your service," he said.


End file.
